Jasmine (1989) is the third book of Bharati Mukherjee's that I've picked up, and I've definitely gained the sense that Mukherjee would really be a cool professor to have. Her writing tends to have a quality of being more successful as Professor Mukherjee's lectures on identity and global modernity than well-constructed narratives.As a novel following the journey of Jyoti/Jasmine/Jane, who goes from Indian country girl/beloved wife to illegal immigrant/Upper West Side nanny to Midwest trophy wife/mother to a teenage son, Jasmine is too short and underdeveloped to be thoroughly satisfying. In addition to suffering from the same meandering quality which sunk The Holder of the World, Jasmine's characterization is thin. Key figures in the narrative, including love interests Taylor (the perfectly enlightened NY professor) and Bud (the simple-minded farmer), are mere cardboard cutouts. Truly, The only secondary character that pops is Du, the adopted Vietnamese son of Bud and "J", who shares with her a mutual understanding of the chameleon-like trajectories of the immigrant. Additionally, the eponymous "J" never quite overcomes a certain elusiveness that is meant to be a symbol of her continual reinvention, but has a tendency to read as blankness. At one point, Mukherjee has "J" ironically question, "Can wanting be fatal?" --to which a delightful yahoo had written emphatically "YES!" in my copy-- but I never bought that sense of wanting from her, the endless desire essential to her destructive tendency. Consequently, the transformations "J" goes through feel entirely contrived to make a thematic point, rather than coming out of the characterization itself.However, as a vehicle for Mukherjee's reflections on identity, and her riffs on the various segments of society that "J" encounters? Jasmine is pretty entertaining. Mukherjee appears to have a pessimistic view towards the dream of the multicultural melting pot, if not an outright cynical one. A scene at a PTA meeting, in which "J" meets with one of Du's teachers, sparks with provocation: And then he said, "He's a quick study isn't he? They were like that, the kids who hung around us in Saigon." He didn't make "quick study" sound like anything you'd like to be. We're all quick studies, I should have said. Once we start letting go—let go of just one thing, like not wearing our normal clothes, or a turban or not wearing a tika on the forehead—the rest goes on its own down a sinkhole. When he first arrived, Du kept a small shrine in his room [...]"I tried a little Vietnamese on him," Mr. Skola went on, "and he just froze up."I suppressed my shock, my disgust. This country has so many ways of humiliating, of disappointing. How dare you? What must he have thought? His history teacher in Baden, Iowa, just happens to know a little street Vietnamese? Now where would he have picked it up? There are no harmless, compassionate ways to remake oneself. We murder who we were so we can rebirth ourselves in the images of dreams.Not exactly providing your typical take on the American dream of reinvention, eh? Mukherjee obliterates the myth of obsequious assimilation or peaceful pursuit, while not ruling out the possibility of finding that life, liberty, and happiness (if in another form than we expected).It's this quality of intelligence, of a willingness to offer real opinions in her writing which makes, for me, reading Bharati Mukherjee always interesting — ultimately, more rewarding against that of more safe and tasteful writers Jhumpa Lahiri, despite the unevenness of her output. Rating: 3 stars
This book is about a child's immigration to India. For we see all through the novel that Jasmine, call her what you will, is only a child. And the name changes, people call my Christy, Chris, some even take pride in calling me by my imaginary full name, Christina while I am just Christy. That doesn't mean I have multiple personalities, it means people like to call you differently. And also in many places, I find Jyoti or Jasmine acting like a child. When Karin calls her a gold digger, she defiantly replies, yes, the husband I am taking away from you, Bud is gold, and if digging means I am digging away his sorrows, then I am a gold digger. This retort is much like a child's "Nah na na na na". I am sorry but no, Bharati Mukherjee, I cannot believe that every man you come in contact with falls in love with you. Even Scarlett O Hara and other beauties like her had their limits. Jazzy or Jase must have had some kind of superpower. And Jasmine, isn't it convenient or extroardinarily co-incidental that the wives of the men who are interested in you just up and go away or the guy leaves them or them are not married, like Darrel. All the characters were flat characters, no change in any of them and I don't know enough about Bud's pre-Harlan life to compare with the present one you give in the novel, as he is not vastly described as a healthy, fit man. Professor Vadhera gives you the money, Taylor gives you a home and security and Bud gives you a lot more, a slow and steady climb, isn't it but not very realistic. Mother Rippleyer had to be there when you were asking around for the job and lo and behold, another man falls in love with you. Karin calls you a tornado, leaving destruction in your wake, but I think you are more like a child, leaving lovelorn men in your wake. I also think the book misrepresents Indians. You say all Indians are like fisherman looking for fish. I didn't know all Indians meant Punjabi, Hindu, fair-skinned ones. There's also a pretty racist comment by Bud where he imagines all Indian women to be dark-skinned, pot-bellied, starving women. All in all, it was an initially intriguing but finally disappointing read.
What do You think about Jasmine (1999)?
I much enjoyed this engrossing tale, especially the voice of the heroine/narrator as she struggles through adversity and begins to discover her own power to make a better life for herself. Pages and paragraphs alternate between several settings: India, where Jasmine’s beloved husband is murdered by religious zealots; Florida, where she makes illegal entry to the United States and survives a dire assault by her human trafficker; New York, where she works as an au pair; and rural Iowa, where she becomes stranded in a marriage of convenience. Jasmine is a late 20th-Century nomad who never forgets the village and loved ones of her youth. Everywhere Jasmine goes, men fall in love with her. Adrift with terrible grief, she surrenders to their desires in hopes of finding security. Gradually, she realizes that she can become “like a goddess” and direct her own decisions.A favorite passage: “The villagers say that when a clay pitcher breaks, you see that the air inside it is the same as outside. Vilma set herself on fire because she had broken her pitcher; she saw there were no insides and outsides. We are just shells of the same Absolute.”
—Anesa
This book had many things going for it that just completely resonated for me: 1) Indian immigration story; 2) Set in rural America; 3) With a brief stint in NYC. Beyond all of that, I thought the protagonist was a complex, believable, and beautifully flawed character. Compelling and engaging from start to finish. If there was one weakness, maybe the rural scenes didn't ring as true for me, and there was a certain depth that was lacking (maybe because the book is so short). That said, all in all a great read!
—Vishnu
At seventeen, Jasmine travels alone to America to escape the isolation imposed on widows in rural India. An act of violence shortly upon her arrival in the United States sets in motion the beginning of a major transformation as Jasmine struggles to survive, build a new life, find love and adapt to her new country.As the story of Jasmine’s character and her transformation unfolded, I felt very conflicted. Her story touches upon both the great kindness and compassion of people reaching out to help those in need and the extreme cruelty and exploitation by others of these same people. I found it difficult to resolve the complexity of motives that gave rise to Jasmine’s most sustained relationships as well as Jasmine’s own feelings and motives. This is a very rich and complex novel about how our lives once they become intertwined with others impact and transform each of us. In the end, I wonder if Jasmine became the person she hoped to be when she left India for a new life here in America.
—HenHud Library
